FRERARD Haven't Got a Prayer boyxboy
by GothicToeLicker
Summary: 16 yr old Frank has to move in w/ his very religious grandma and uncle, as well as go to a Lutheran school. Before Frank can convince himself that all Lutherans are total assholes he meets a strange boy with an ipod and a red haired brother. Battling against homophobia and society in the small religious community, how do these new 'lovers' survive? T for language
1. Chapter 1

**Setting: Present times. Lutheran School and Church. City/State unspecified. **

**Characters: Gerard (16) Frank (16) Mikey (15) ((From My Chemical Romance))**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the guys from My Chemical Romance, nor do I claim to. This is a completely fictional story, and I am their fan, (thus fanfiction). The characters are simply based off of the band members and are not meant to be representations of them.**

**WARNING: If you're not cool with guys kissing then get out. This story has a lot of cussing as well as some scenes that people might find offensive such as corporal punishments in schools, an angsty teenager's opinion of religion, and homophobia. If you're uncomfortable with that then leave. **

**Hope you all enjoy this! :D **

I would have rather been hanging from the edge of a cliff by my fingertips. Giving a blow job to a 300 pound, 40 year old DnD player. Cleaning my grandmother's underwear. Kissing Sarah Smith, the girl with a unibrow and mustache from French class. So basically, I would have rather been doing _anything_ else besides going to church.

Okay, maybe it wasn't just the fact that I was going to church. I used to go to Catholic school, attend Sunday Mass religiously, do confessions… blah blah blah. Church didn't exactly bother me. What bothered me was that my uncle was making me go to 'youth group' before church. Possibly the STUPIDEST idea on the face of the Earth.

First off, I had to wake up earlier. Then I have to dress up in clothes I hate wearing. Then I get to walk my snot nosed cousin, Tiffany, to Sunday School. And then, the icing on the 'kill me please' cake, I get to sit in a room with a dozen other teenagers who gape at me like I'm the spawn of the devil.

I'm not even kidding you.

I think it's because I have a lip ring, but I couldn't be certain. It's not like there's anything completely off about me. I mean, sure I'm wearing a lip ring, and I'm wearing converse instead of church shoes… but it's not like I drew the antichrist symbol on my face or flipped every cross in the room upside down! By the way- there are seven crosses. Just in case you were wondering.

I used to go youth group when I was in sixth grade, and I actually enjoyed it at my old church. The group leader, Bob, was young- college aged. He told us to call him by his first name, gave us donuts and had us act out scenes from the bible. He didn't even get mad if we acted silly or sarcastic. That was a good youth group. I had friends there.

But I'm not in sixth grade anymore, and this isn't Queen of Saints Catholic Church. This is St. Paul's Missouri Synod Evangelical Lutheran Church. I don't get why they have such a long name. What are they trying to prove here? Maybe God spoke to the priest- I mean pastor (weird Lutherans) and told him to have the longest fucking title in the whole Christian community for his church. Who knows!?

So I sat in the basement of St. Paul's Missouri Synod Evangelical Lutheran Church, (Let's just call it Luther Land) on a ratty old couch, next to a kid with legs longer than the Mississippi river and watched everyone stare at me. Except for the kid with the legs. He just ignored me.

Eventually an adult showed up, but they were old, and they didn't have donuts. It took her a while before she noticed I was there, and then she stopped whatever she had been doing to ask me who I was. Then she had me stand up and introduce myself.

Lutherans don't know how to use humor.

"Hello, I'm Frank Iero and I'm here to possess your souls!" I said, smiling wide and clapping my hands together. Silence. Complete silence.

"We do not joke about those things, Franklin," the woman, Mrs. Berk, said gently. She gave me the disappointed eyes, and maybe I would have felt bad if I actually gave a care. She then started talking about our souls, our relationships with God, and temptation.

I don't remember ever talking about temptation this much at Queen of Saints. They talked about hell a lot… and liked to use expressions like "Mother Mary, save our worthless souls from the fiery depths of hell!" But we didn't talk about temptation.

As if this youth group thing couldn't get any worse, Mrs. Berk suddenly said, "One of the biggest temptations for young people is sex. Would anyone like to share their experiences?"

Noeyecontactnoeyecontactnoeyecontactnoeyecontact… Usually if you don't make eye contact, people ignore you. Right? No.

"Franklin, how about you share something?" she said, making me blush slightly.

"I'm a flaming homosexual who likes to watch men walk in front of me!"

That's not what I actually said. That's what I could have said. That's what the truth would have been. But the truth, despite what they preach, does NOT set you free. It gets you in trouble. It gets people to look at you with those disappointed eyes. It gets you phrases like "Oh Franklin," and "God forgives all sins," and "Go to Hell you fucking faggot!"

Instead I smiled and shrugged me shoulders. "No ma'am, I'm a virgin," I say. Part truth. That has to count for something.

"Surely though, you have temptations. Have you ever looked at a girl in a way you know was wrong? Or have you ever fantasized?" She looked around the room, as if asking the questions to the entire class. "Have you ever masturbated?"

Have you ever blushed so hard that you felt your face was going to catch fire? It's unpleasant. My tongue felt swollen, so talking wasn't an option. I blinked, stared at the crazy woman in front of me with a slack jaw, and then looked around to see if anyone else was surprised by her straightforwardness. Okay, maybe there is hope for this religion. Most of the others looked mortified. Except for one- the long legged kid next to me. The only one who hadn't stared at me like I was a freak show. That's when I noticed he had ear buds plugged into his ears, hidden expertly by shaggy hair and an upturned collar. The fucking genius was tuning out the world while the rest of us poor suckers had to talk about masturbating! Unfair.

I managed to avoid answering those questions, and soon found myself speed walking through the basement church hallways, trying to find my way back to the Sunday School room where I had dropped Tiffany off. It was my responsibility to escort her from the basement up to the main floor for mass- I mean service. Gosh Lutheranism!

I must have looked as lost as I felt because suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder. I jumped out of my skin, and then turned to see long legged kid. I hadn't noticed before that he wore glasses, but he wore them low on his nose, so he looked down on me more than he would otherwise. Sixteen year old male and I was still only 5'4". This kid had to be a half foot taller than me.

"Looking for a way out?" he asked, and his voice was quiet- like he didn't use it too much. "There's no escaping this place, mother fucker," he said. And for a moment I wasn't sure if he was joking or if Lutheran people were as crazy as I thought. He smirked slightly and said, "That was a joke,"

"Oh," I said, chuckling a bit awkwardly. The time for laughter had passed. "I'm looking for the Sunday School room. I have to pick up my cousin," I said.

Leg boy nodded, grabbed my wrist, and started pulling me down the hallway. His fingers were unusually cold.

"It's not hard to find, ya know," he said quietly. "Big blue door, colorful sign, says 'Sunday School' in big rainbow letters…"

"Haha, yeah well I'm new here," I said sarcastically.

"No shit,"

That actually threw me off guard, because I didn't think these people could curse! The ones I'd met so far had this 'Holier than thou,' ambience that made me think their shit was pure white. But here was this kid, listening to music during youth group and using curse words in the basement of God's house. I just might try to befriend him.

Well, there was the door. Long legs was right. How had I missed it? As we were approaching it I heard a voice from inside call out "Shut up and sit down or you don't get any candy!"

Once upon a time when I had been a good little Catholic boy- when I had worn the school uniform and tie and did confessions and worked as an altar boy once a month and went to Sunday School, our Sunday School teachers were always old, wrinkly, and nasty. (That is, until I got to sixth grade and got to go to Youth Group with Bob.) They were like Mrs. Berk, except they didn't talk about masturbating. The voice I was hearing come from this room didn't belong to an old, wrinkly, nasty. It belonged to a kid- a boy. And when the human giraffe went and opened the door, motioning for me to follow, there _was_ a boy there. And the boy had red hair. And he was absolutely gorgeous.

"Oh, hey there Mikey!" the boy said, holding a bucket of what I assumed to be candy high above his head, so that the swarm of children around him couldn't reach it.

"Hey!" he barked. "Make a line,"

The kids actually listened. They were all very small, only half my own height. The girls were dressed in pretty skirts and dresses, and the boys wore sweater vests or ties over collared shirts. One boy wore a shirt that at one point must have been white, but was now decorated in all different sorts of marker scribbles, along with his hands.

The boy with the candy turned to me and smiled. "Hey, I'm Gerard," he said, pushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. He had red hair. No, not like gingers-have-no-soul red, but like out of a box, firetruck red hair. It was long enough to brush his collar and fall in front of his eyes. He smiled at me. "What's your name?"

I forgot how to speak, or maybe I forgot that I had a name, but suddenly Mr. Legs- Mikey poked me and I answered. "Frank!" I said, too fast and too loud. "Frank Iero. I'm new here… supposed to pick up Tiffany,"

"Oh, yeah, great," he said, smiling at me again. "Tiffany, go with Frank. I'll see you next week, okay kiddo?"

Tiffany broke away from the flock and walked over to me. "Bye bye Mr. G!" she said in her ridiculously small six year old voice, and then took my hand and pulled me out of the room. When I looked back, Mikey had his music back on and Gerard was still smiling.

!

"We have to make sure that we are living our lives as stewards!" the priest, I mean pastor, demanded. "We cannot act! We cannot lie to God! Just as Jonah couldn't hide, we cannot lie. We have to be stewards!"

The pastor dude had said the word 'steward' at least twenty times in the past century he'd been giving his sermon, but he had yet to tell me what a steward actually was. The bulletin was no help in solving this mystery, and when I asked my uncle Clark, he told me to "shut up and pay attention, Franklin." I've decided I don't like Uncle Clark very much.

So now I have heard the word steward twenty four times, and I still have no idea what it means. The only thing I'm getting from his sermon is that if I don't do it, I'll get eaten by a whale… or something to that effect. What the hell, Lutherans? Catholic Mass was never this hard to understand, and sometimes it wasn't even in English. It was in Latin! That language nobody even speaks any more!

I think being a steward has something to do with giving money to the church. Bummer, because I don't have any money. Sorry God. You'll have to rely on all the working adults in this church, because I guess I can't be a steward. At least I'm being honest to the big guy, right? Because the pastor just said once again "You can't lie to God!"

The pastor said something I think I might have recognized from Catholic Mass all those years ago, and suddenly everyone was bowing their heads and drawing crosses with their fingers, and I struggled to keep up, confused. Even the eight year old boy in the pew in front of me knew what he was doing. Fml. Stupid Lutherans.

And then everybody stood up to sing a song. I recognized the lyrics, but these crazy people changed the tune, so I just stood there and stared at the stained glass window. It was really pretty. That's one thing about this church. It was really pretty.

Just like the altar boy. Did I mention that yet? Gerard and Mikey were altar boys, or as I've been told- acolytes. What the heck kind of a word is that? Acolyte. That just sounds ridiculous. 'Altar boy,' makes much more sense, but whatever.

Gerard and Mikey got to sit up by the altar, Gerard on the left and Mikey on the right. They wore long white robes that covered their whole arms and went down to their ankles, and for some reason they had pointed hoods. It's a good thing they didn't put their hoods up, otherwise the two black people in the congregation may have gotten offended. Gerard's hair matched the color of the carpet on the altar, but it really stood out against his robe. At one point during the song I didn't know how to sing, Gerard must have caught me staring at him, because I swear he made eye contact and winked. He winked at me… what did that mean? How was I supposed to interpret that?

Was it just a thing he did? Was it some psycho Lutheran sign language? Was he coming onto me?

I was actually so busy thinking about it, that I didn't notice the Priest (damnit. Pastor) raise and then lower his arms, apparently the universal sign for 'sit down mother fuckers.' Suddenly I was the only one left standing out of the three hundred people there, and Uncle Clark pulled me down so hard I swear I bruised my butt cheeks. I'll check later. Totally normal, right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning and disclaimer in first chapter**

Standing on the bed in my tiny new bedroom, bent over at an awkward position with my head between my legs, trying to see if I had actually bruised my ass on that church pew. If my grandmother, or my uncle, had chosen that time to walk in on me… I don't even know if I would be able to explain myself. No bruises. I carefully pulled my pants back up and fell back onto the bed.

I guess I should explain why all of this is happening, or why I'm bothering to write this. I guess I could follow the angsty punk rock kid stereotype and blame my parents, but I can't do that with a clean conscious. My mom was just doing what every other single mother in America was doing. She got another job, (she worked three now) to try and pay the bills. I didn't mind that she was never home, because she was doing it for me. I didn't mind being alone- I liked it.

And it seems everyone wants to blame my father for leaving my mom and I when I was three. I can't do that either. My mom doesn't even blame him. He was too young to have a kid, and he wanted to be a rockstar- not a father. He was still working on being a rockstar. Sometimes, though I doubt my grandmother will let him now, my father would come and let me stand on chairs in the back of bars to watch him perform. My dad was amazing.

This whole thing really happened when I got suspended from school… again. Third time this year, and my grandmother was not impressed. She said I needed a firmer hand, adult supervision… she said that I needed to move in with her, and my mother didn't argue. I still can't blame her. She only wants what's best for me.

I don't want to live in my grandmother's house. I'm not used to having someone tell me when to wake up and go to bed. The only thing I ever got in trouble for with my mom was smoking. It's a lot easier to get in trouble here.

What sucks is that my uncle lives here too. His wife died just a year ago, and he decided to move in with his mom to take care of her. I don't like Uncle Clark much. He's an asshole. He likes to say that my mom is a failure as a parent, and I like to tell him to shut his fat mouth. Then I get sent to my room, where I still haven't unpacked anything.

It could be worse, I presume. They could hit me. But then I'd run away. They can't make me stay here. I would leave right now, but it's not worth the effort.

The room was somehow even smaller than the room at my mom's house, despite how big this house was. It was more like a closet than a room… I still had everything in my duffle bag, suit case, and backpack, and with those on the floor, I literally had to jump from my bed to the hallway. I couldn't open the closet door. I really needed to unpack.

Eventually I think I will get used to living here in my grandmother's house, and going to psycho Luther Land with my uncle, and having to deal with my bratty cousin- but once I am comfortable here, it will be time for me to leave again. That's how life works, isn't it?

!

Something I forgot to mention- I have been removed from Washington Mackey Central High School. Part of the 'turn-the-juvenile-delinquent-into-a-citizen' plan. I have been unrolled in St. Paul's Missouri Synod Evangelical Lutheran School. It's a small school, only about two hundred students. Half in the lower grades, half in the high school. I have to wear a uniform, which really sucks, and I'm honestly scared shitless about going.

I walked downstairs after struggling to tie my uniform tie. The school uniform was almost identical to the one I had worn to catholic school. But now my tie was blue instead of red, and I wasn't required to wear the blazer.

When my grandmother saw me the first thing she said was, "Good morning sweet heart, I made you some eggs." I think I might come to like my grandmother. When Uncle Clark saw me the first he said was "Take that damned ring out of your lip." Grandma scolded him for cursing, and that make me giggle, but I still had to take the ring out. Unfortunately, whenever I get nervous I chew on my lip ring. Now I was starting at a new school and I didn't have it with me. That really, really sucked. I was going to die before the end of the day.

Okay, so I didn't die. I didn't even get lost! It would have taken a special kind of stupid to get lost in this school. It was two levels. The bottom level was kindergarten through eighth grade. The top level was for ninth through twelfth grade. Once I got upstairs, there was only one hallway, so I couldn't get lost. I found a door that had the words 'Grade Ten' written on it, and went in there, where I found thirty other students. They were all dressed identical to me, and when I walked in they all shut up and stared at me. I wasn't even late, but everyone was already sitting down.

I nervously lurked by the door and searched for Gerard, the boy with red hair. He wasn't in this room. He might not even go to the school.

"Oh, you must be Franklin," the woman (who assumed to be the teacher) I was told was called Mrs. Johnson.

"Uh, it's Frank," I said quietly. "Actually,"

"Frank, very well," she smiled at me, and I felt a bit less nervous. "Come with me, dearie," She walked to the front of the classroom and I hurried after her. She stopped at the front and everyone in the class continued staring at us, except for two boys in the very front who were messing around. I stood there awkwardly while Mrs. Johnson walked and placed her hands on one of the boy's shoulders. They both froze.

"Robert, move to the back please," she said gently. The blonde kid instantly picked up his books and went to the back. At public school the kid would have argued, grumbled, said something sarcastic, or just down right refused to move. It was different here. "Frank, you sit there now," she said, and I set my books down on the desk but didn't sit down yet. Mrs. Johnson put her arm around my shoulders and introduced me.

"Class, this is Frank Iero," she said.

"Hey Frank," a chorus came out, and it sounded rather bored and uninterested.

Shortly after I had sat down the bell rang, and everyone stood up and recited a prayer I recognized but didn't remember, so I just stood there. Mrs. Johnson walked over to my desk afterwards and handed me a paper, saying "I suggest you memorize this for tomorrow." It was the apostle's creed.

Weird thing number one about Lutheran School- everybody knows everybody's name. Everybody already knows my name. Somehow they all know that I'm new, and I don't know how they recognized me so quickly. Maybe they have some kind of psycho Catholic detecting radar.

Weird thing number two about Lutheran School- it seems I am the only new kid they've had since second grade. Everyone is so interested in me and it's creeping me out! They seem even more interested in the fact that I was catholic. Apparently that's special.

I got dragged to sit with a group of people I didn't know by some girl named Jennifer. I imagine these are the cool kids, but it's hard to tell in a school this small. They asked me a lot of questions about being catholic. One of them told me that the teachers were allowed to hit students at this school. I don't know if I'm going to like it at this school very much.

!

Gerard does attend St. Paul's school. I found that out on the first day, because it would have been very hard to not recognize his flaming red hair during free period. I wanted to go talk to him, but I was too shy. It wasn't even like he was with a big group of people. He just sat in the corner of the gymnasium with a notebook propped up on his knees. Mikey was there four out of the five days, ear buds in his ears and head down.

So after the school week was finally over, I was actually a bit excited for Sunday morning. It meant that I had to go to church, I had to drop Tiffany off at Sunday school, and I just might be brave enough to say something to Gerard.

I wasn't brave enough.

The cool factor of me being a new kid wore off. Now I'm just ignored, awkward, and don't really fit in anywhere. At least in public school there were obvious cliques, and new kids could find one they wanted to cling to. Not here. Here they had groups of friends who had been together since diaper days, and I wasn't really brave enough to talk to any of them. I don't think they would have appreciated my company anyways. I ate lunch at the detention table, because I had nowhere else to sit.

Mrs. Johnson must have noticed, because she told the class to be nice to me, and kept asking me if I liked it there. I lied and said I did.

On Sunday Mikey and I walked to the Sunday School room together from youth group, but we didn't talk to each other. He listened to his music, and I walked silently by his side.

Gerard was there again, and he smiled at me again. I managed to say something this time. I asked him why he taught Sunday School instead of going to youth group. He told me that he'd rather stab his eyes out than go to youth group, so when they asked for volunteers, he jumped right on it.

Okay, maybe not all Lutherans are crazy psychopaths. Maybe.

!

I shouldn't have done it… Mrs. Johnson was passing around a sign-up sheet for acolyting. She said that there were too many empty spaces and that more high school students needed to sign up. She also said that the Way brothers could not be acolytes EVERY single Sunday, so somebody had to sign up.

So I did.

Except that I erased Mikey's name and wrote my own. That way Gerard and I would acolyte on the same Sunday. Looking back, I know realize how obvious this was, since Gerard and Mikey probably always acolyte together. I felt stupid.

"You erased my name, huh?" Mikey's voice reached me and my blood froze in my veins. I could have sworn that I would drop dead right there.

"I-I.. uh.. I- I am so sorry! I must have done it by accident! I'll go talk to Mrs. Johnson and change it… I…" I stopped stuttering like an idiot when Mikey started chuckling. He shook his head no and took a moment to regain himself.

"Uhhh…" I was confused. I was very, very confused.

"I was coming to say thanks," Mikey said, smirking. I didn't know he could smile…

"Uh, why?" I asked, still confused.

Mikey shrugged. "My dad_ makes _me acolyte. I hate it. Don't know why Gerard loves doing it… but hell! You got me out of it," Mikey said, then dropped silent again.

"Uh… no problem… I… uh…"

"You know how to do it?" Mikey asked, back in his quiet voice.

"Do what now?"

"Acolyte, dummy," he said, chuckling again. I shook my head no.

"I don't even know what I'll have to do, besides wear a dress…" I said honestly, and he laughed a bit harder.

"You light the candles," he said. "Start top to bottom- Christ comes down. Put them out bottom to top- Christ goes up,"

"Ah," What?

And then I did it. I said the sentence that made me my first Luther Land friend. "Can I… uh… sit with you and Gerard… for uh… free period?" I asked, and I know I blushed. I felt stupid.

Mikey shrugged, so I didn't know whether that was a yes or no. But when he turned and walked away I followed him.

I didn't have to say much that free period, because Gerard talked a lot. Mikey ignored him, but I hung onto every word. He had a really pretty voice. And he had a lot to say. I don't know why I was so interested.

!

I got made fun of on Thursday when I finally asked the question that had been haunting me. "What's a steward?" I asked Mrs. Johnson, after she had finished our morning devotion. She laughed, and everyone else laughed, and I felt stupid.

Then she told me what a steward was, but she didn't make any more sense than the pastor had. Fucking Lutherans… So I just lied to her and said I understood so she would shut up. I still don't know what a steward is. I tried asking Uncle Clark, and he told me to shut up and stop being a bother. Yeah, I really, really don't like that guy.


	3. Chapter 3

It was hard to tell whether I was excited or horrified, but there was definitely something strange going on in my stomach. On one side of the coin, I got to see Gerard. I got to acolyte with Gerard. And if we had to change into those robes I just might get to see him without a shirt on. I didn't know yet how that arrangement worked, but I could hope for the best. On the other, scarier side of the coin, I had to acolyte. I had no idea what on earth I was doing, and I was going to make a fool of myself… in front of Gerard, and in front of the entire church. Plus I had to light candles. I'm pretty sure that Uncle Clark would disown me if I caught the church on fire.

Anyways, I was so distracted thinking about watching the church burn and seeing Gerard shirtless that I hadn't heard a word of what Mrs. Berk had said.

"Franklin, are you listening?" she asked me. Why did she never ask Mikey? He _never_ paid attention. Ever. Life is unfair.

"Yeah, sure," I mumbled.

"What was I talking about then?" She demanded. I _wanted_ to be a smart ass and say 'Jesus,' but I already know that sarcasm doesn't go over well with this group. So instead, I took a shot in the dark.

"Temptation," I answered, and she pursed her lips, as if disappointed that I'd gotten it right, and started talking again. I went back to ignoring her, and that was the end of that. Before we left, she said next week we would talk about 'Honoring your elders and being honest.' I swear she was peering into my soul as she said it, so I didn't even wait around for Mikey. I just booked it out of there. Crazy ass Lutherans… reading my mind and such.

I got lost again going to the Sunday School room and arrived after all the children except Tiffany were gone. Tiffany was sitting there on top of a table, pouting, and she stuck her tongue out at me when I got there.

"You forgot about me!" she squeaked. I didn't respond because I didn't want to admit to a six year old that I'd gotten lost.

Gerard was at the other end of the room, listening to an adult. I didn't say talking to an adult because Gerard wasn't talking. He just stood there, hands obediently behind his back and quietly mumbling 'yes sir' as the man ranted on. Eventually the man walked out of the room with a huff, and Gerard mouthed a few words at his back. Words that the man would certainly not have been happy to hear out of Gerard's mouth.

For the first time ever Gerard wasn't smiling when he walked over to me.

"What was that all about?" I asked him, taking Tiffany's hand and walking out of the room with Gerard. Mikey wasn't around, probably since he didn't have to acolyte. He'd probably gone straight upstairs.

Gerard sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "That was Mr. Michaels. His son's in Sunday School, and he's upset because he saw me outside of church on Friday,"

"Why would he be upset about seeing you?" I asked. Wait… did Gerard live in the church? Was he not allowed to leave or something? Was that how being an acolyte worked? Had I bound my fucking soul to the Lord's house by signing up on that sheet!? Maybe that's why Mikey was so happy… Maybe that's why no one else would sign up! I'm trapped here forever!?

(As irrational as it sounds, you never really know. These Lutherans are a bunch of crazy mother fuckers. I mean, they have already proven that they can see my soul, read my mind, and exclude me from their secret church handshakes.)

"He said that I 'conduct myself inappropriately,'" he did a fake voice when he said it, and it sounded funny. It made me smirk. "That he could 'tolerate the red hair, but this is just too much!'"

"I'm still confused," I confessed.

Gerard sighed and rolled his eyes. "He's mad because he saw me at the mall on Friday with Mikey, and I was wearing skinny jeans. That's why he's mad. He thinks that I shouldn't be allowed to teach the kids Sunday School because I'm going to pervert them with thoughts of sinners. It's fucking bullshit,"

I frowned, feeling sorry for Gerard, and Tiffany gasped. "Mr. G! You said a naughty word!" she squeaked. I swear this kid doesn't talk, she squeaks. Like a mouse, or a bird.

Gerard put on a weary smile. "Yeah said a naughty word," he sighed. "I'm sorry, Tiffany. Do you forgive me?"

"Yeah," Tiffany giggled. "I forgive you. Don't worry, I won't tell,"

Gerard laughed, "Good!"

"How could they think you're a bad influence?" I demanded. "You're _teaching SUNDAY SCHOOL! _ How many teenagers do that!?"

"Well people haven't really been that supportive of it to begin with," Gerard confessed. "It's mostly because of the hair. They think I'm some kind of rebel or something! No, I just want red hair! I swear, these people can't see past outward appearances. They don't want to even try to get to know a person,"

"Yeah," I hummed quietly. "Is that why you and Mikey spend so much time alone?" I asked.

"Mhm, we don't want to deal with the drama and sh-," Gerard glanced down at Tiffany and cleared his voice. "-crap. It's not worth it. Not after all the rumors they started last year,"

We got to the main floor and Tiffany ran off to Uncle Clark. He pointed a finger at me, as if warning 'If you set this church on fire, I will eat your entrails like spaghetti.'

"We can talk later," Gerard whispered to me. "We better robe up and get out there now,"

We went into a room and I was disappointed to find out that we put the robes on right over our shirts. No skin sighting today. Gerard did, however; get close enough to help me tie the weird rope thing around my waist, because apparently there's a special way to do it. Just like everything Lutheran. A special, stupid way to complicate everything. Gerard also helped me to light my fire stick thingy, and told me that if it started going out, to push the little lever up and raise the wick. He also told me to light the candles from top to bottom. He repeated what Mikey had told me before. "Top to bottom, Christ comes down,"

Whatever.

He said he would take care of the Christ candle, and I said 'Thanks' because I didn't even know what the Christ candle was! (Turns out it's just a big candle next to the pulpit. And I mean a really,_ really _big candle! If this candle decided to fall over during the middle of the readings, it would decapitate the pastor and steam roll half the congregation! I'm not even exaggerating! Yes I am. Shut up.)

It was hard not to laugh during church, because Gerard made faces at me all service. _All service. _Any idea how hard it was to focus on the sermon? Fucking hard, okay?

Problem with being an acolyte is that I was up in front of everyone and I still didn't know when to stand up or sit down or draw a cross with my fingers or bow my head or kneel or hop on one foot and do the hula. I just followed Gerard and hoped I didn't mess up to badly.

We managed to put the candles out without calamity, which was reassuring.

"You have a phone?" Gerard asked me, as we were in the little side room changing out of our robes.

"Yeah,"

"Can I give you my number?" he asked. "That way we can text," he smiled, and how in heaven's name could I say no to that smile? It was cuter than a cherub! And not nearly as creepy. I said yes, and he pulled a marker out of thin air to write his number on my arm. I smiled, because it was cheesy and cute, even if he didn't mean it that way… because he was probably straight… and he was probably homophobic. I don't want to think like that, but he does belong to this church. Maybe he will surprise me. I hope he does.

!

Apparently last year, when Gerard was in tenth grade, someone started a rumor that he was gay. And then someone else started a rumor that he cut himself. Another person started a rumor that he was secretly a woman, and this is when he stopped talking to his friends and started drawing during lunch.

Mikey said that Gerard spent about two weeks hiding in the bathroom during lunch, but then the teachers found out and got worried about him. They had a conference with him and the pastor, and they tried to figure out what was wrong. Apparently he simply said, "I'm sick of this school and I'm sick of the bull shit." I admire him for saying that.

Eventually they left him alone, which was all he really wanted in the first place. Well, what he had really wanted was for his friends to stand up for him and stop the rumors, but since they wouldn't he settled for solitude.

Gerard, Mikey, and I eat lunch together now at a table where no one else sits. Then we sit in the gym while everyone else plays basketball and floor hockey. Gerard draws, Mikey listens to music, and I try to deflect and rogue basketballs that bounce towards us.

Gerard was quiet all free period because the rumors were starting up again. It was all because of the man who had seen him at the mall. He'd gone home and told his kids, and now the entire school buzzed with conversations about Gerard's pants. Even the third graders. Do you know how horrible third graders can be when they get a hold of a rumor? They become demons. Demons in light up sneakers and marker stains.

"Such a fuss over skinny jeans?" I asked.

"Yeah," Gerard sighed.

"Welcome to St. Paul's," Mikey rolled his eyes.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I groaned.

"Don't say that too loud," Mikey warned. How did he hear me with the music blasting in his ears? He must have had secret ears in his eye lashes. Because that's totally probable.

I decided to ask about what the kid named Charlie had told me on the first day of school.

"How do they punish students here?" I asked, out of nowhere, and Mikey actually raised an eyebrow. Gerard shrugged.

"Detention, Pastor conferences, you know," he said. He looked like he was leaving something out.

"Are they really allowed to hit us?" I asked, and it made Mikey cough, and blush slightly. Gerard looked up from his sketch book for the first time that period.

"Are they allowed to, or will they?" he asked me to specify.

"Both," I said.

He answered, "Yes," turning back to his sketch pad.

"Legit?" I nearly squeaked.

"Don't get in trouble," he suggested.

Then Mikey started talking. "Didn't you get paddled when you went to Catholic school?" he asked me. I shook my head 'no,' because I hadn't. They didn't do that at that school, despite the catholic school stereotype.

Mikey shrugged. "Well you will here,"

"Only if I get in trouble," I countered. "And I don't plan on doing that,"

Both Mikey and Gerard started laughing, and I looked back and forth between them, confused. "What!?" I demanded.

"You're hanging with us now, bitch," Mikey said.

"Trouble is inevitable," Gerard smirked, and for some reason I felt like I wouldn't mind getting in trouble, as long as it was with Gerard. Gerard just might be worth it.

Oh God, they've brainwashed me! Fucking Lutherans and they're crazy Lutheran black magic! What I had thought were innocent prayers must have really be incantations, and I'd been selling my soul to them… piece by piece.

…If anyone could hear my thoughts, they'd surely think I was crazy. I must make sure I don't share this journal with anybody. Shhh


	4. Chapter 4

I want to tell you about something that I think really sucks. I was confirmed catholic, so I'm not allowed to do communion here. But Uncle Clark wants me to, and so does the pastor, so they're making me take confirmation class.

This is a class where I have to study a book called "Luther's Small Catechism," and basically memorize it word for word. WORD-FOR-WORD! Kill me please.

Oh, but that's not even the worst part. The worst part is most students get confirmed at the end of eighth grade, so I'm in this class with a bunch of middle schoolers.

Possibly the most annoying question in the history of questions ever asked (ranked even above 'are we there yet?') is the question "what does this mean?" Why is this question so annoying? Because this Luther dude decided to ask that question about every fucking thing Jesus fucking Christ ever fucking said. Every prayer, every chant, every commandment, every thought- I have twice as many paragraphs to memorize because of the damned question!

I honestly think that this Luther guy is full of b.s. He isn't God, and yet he basically wrote his own bible. Some of the things he said… like there's a whole page about how homosexuals go to hell, and then another whole page about obeying your parents no matter what, and then there's twelve pages explaining the blood and flesh in communion, and how it isn't really Christ, and yet it is.

And don't even get me started on _the_ prayer…

_'He is one God, yet he is three. Yet he is not three Gods, but one God. And there are not three fathers, but one father. Not three sons, but one son. Not three spirits, but one spirit. The three parts, connected in one. And yet they are not one, but three, and yet they are one…" _ something like that. There's about five pages of just that. It is but it isn't. What does this mean? I DON'T FUCKING KNOW!

I started talking about this to Gerard and Mikey at lunch, but I decided to slip something in just to test the waters.

"And I mean, it says homosexuals go to hell! But it quote verses from the _old testament. _ Isn't that supposed to be invalid after Jesus died for our sins or whatever?"

Mikey hadn't been listening, but Gerard looked up at me curiously.

"I used to think the same thing!" he finally said, and I let out the breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. "I mean, who is this Luther dude to tell us what to do? Who the fuck put him in charge!?"

I laughed, because he'd seriously read my mind. "Did you read my mind or something, dude?" I asked.

He laughed too. I felt a lot better after that.

!

It was Saturday, and I had just finished ironing my school uniform. Grandma makes me do it because she says, 'Women love a domesticated man,' and that it will 'teach me responsibility.' I don't really mind it, because it's not the worst thing I could be doing. I went to the living room and sat down on the couch. Tiffany was playing with some dolls on the floor, and Uncle Clark leaned away from me subtly when I sat down. Grandma was sitting in an arm chair across from the couch, and Uncle Clark was glaring at the TV. The news was on.

The news reporter was discussing equal rights and homosexual marriages. Apparently some people had taken their cases to the Supreme Court. 'Good for them,' I thought, smiling slightly. Then Uncle Clark clicked the television off.

"Fucking pitiful," he said, gesturing to the television. "Those people think it should be a right? They're going to hell,"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, a bit confused. Grandma wasn't saying anything, and Tiffany had stopped playing to stare up at her father.

"The gay rights people!" Uncle Clark snapped. "Those faggots on the tv! Marriage is between a man and a woman. They're going to spread aids if they keep it up. I tell you, we're in the time of Revelations, and those serpents are going to hell. I swear, I got into town and I see them. Just walking through walmart holding hands! Those women in plaid shirts, buying organic chicken. Men in pink shirts. It's just embarrassing," he spat.

Then Uncle Clark turned to Tiffany. "What do we call those people, baby?"

"Faggots," she said. And then I had to leave the room, because I was going to be sick. I went upstairs and locked the bathroom door and turned the water on so nobody would hear me.

I wanted to talk to my mom, so I dialed her number, but it went straight to voicemail. She must have been asleep, or at work. I didn't bother leaving her a message, even though I hadn't talked to my mother for about five days.

I flipped through my contacts absent mindedly, looking at the names I no longer had contact with. There was the kid at my old school that sold me cigarettes in the school bathroom. That girl who taught me how to kiss. My first girlfriend. My first boyfriend. Nobody knew about Anthony, and we kept it that way. We were happy, until one day he just stopped talking to me. He wouldn't call me back or say hi in the hallways. So I just gave up. I've had four girlfriends, and one boyfriend, but only Anthony and my mom know I'm bisexual. I don't trust anyone else.

I came across Gerard's number and pressed call. I almost hung up after three rings, but then he answered.

"Ello?" his voice said.

"Hey Gerard, this is Frank," I said, nervously. I chewed on the cuticle of one nail as I talked. I don't know why I was so nervous.

"Do I hear running water?" he asked me, and I blushed.

"Uhh.. yeah. I-I'm not supposed to be on the phone right now," I lied. "So I told my grandma I'm taking a shower… that way she wouldn't hear me," Well that sounded down right pathetic.

Gerard laughed a bit awkwardly, "Yeah, okay. So what's up, Frankie?" (BTW I have a miniature heart attack every time he calls me that.)

"I was wondering if you'd like to come over and hang out," I said. Wait, what? I hadn't authorized that sentence to leave my mouth. Anarchy! Anarchy I tell you! "Or.. or I could come over?"

I could practically hear Gerard smile, or at least I was imagining him smiling. "There's this great park by my house," he said. "We could go there?"

"Yeah, awesome," Gerard gave me his address and it was only four blocks away. Half a mile. Easy five minute walk.

After we hung up, I turned off the water and went downstairs with a hoodie on. "Can I go out for a little bit?" I asked, smiling as sweetly as possible. "Please?" I purposefully directed the question to my grandmother instead of Uncle Clark, because I didn't like to think he had any control over me.

"Absolutely not," he said, at the same time Grandma said, "Where are you going?" They turned to scowl at each other and Grandma won.

"I'm meeting a friend from school at the park," I said. "About four blocks away. You know the place?"

"Yes, of course," Grandma smiled at me. "Who's your friend?"

"Gerard Way," I answered.

"The boy who teaches Sunday School?" Uncle Clark asked. I nodded, Grandma beamed, and Uncle Clark scowled.

"Go ahead, honey. Have fun. Be back before dinner time," Grandma said, and I smiled happily.

"Thank you so much Grandma!" I said.

As I was walking out the door, I heard Uncle Clark say, "He's doing a drug test when he gets home," Grandma wasn't very happy with him about that.

!

When I got to the park, Gerard was sitting on top of the monkey bars with his legs crossed.

"Hey there, stranger," he called to me, smiling. I waved in return, probably looking like a total dork. God did not bless me with social skills.

"It's weird seeing you in human clothes," I laughed. "I thought you lived in that uniform!"

Gerard stuck his tongue out at me. He was wearing a pair of tight black jeans, an Iron Maiden t-shirt, and a grey hoodie. His red hair looked uncombed and messy, and he had smudged black eye liner under his eyes.

"You look really cool," I said, feeling like a total dork in comparison. Sure, I was wearing jeans, a Black Flag t-shirt, and a black hoodie, but I couldn't have looked nearly as cool as Gerard did.

He laughed, "Are you implying that I don't look cool otherwise?"

I blushed, "N-no of course not! I-I mean-,"

"Chill Frankie," he laughed and swung down, so he was hanging upside down. He looked rather adorable. "I always look fabulous,"

I smirked. "Of course," I walked behind him and started pushing him, so he was swinging back and forth by his knees. "You're a rock star,"

Gerard punched his hands in the air and sang out "I'M THE FUCKING KING OF THE WORLD!" while he swung back and forth. I started laughing.

"You do NOT listen to Porcelain and the Tramps!" I said in astonishment.

"Bitch please," he responded. "Those are my jams!"

I laughed, "I officially love you dude,"

"You have no choice," he laughed. "I'm just too awesome,"

Gerard kept swinging back and forth, but then he suddenly slipped. His legs slipped from the bar and he fell face first to the grass, kicking me in the face and dragging me to the ground after him in the process. I managed to land right on top of him, my chest on his stomach, just above his crotch. We stared at each other a moment, blushing slightly, and then both started giggling hysterically. I'm not sure either of us knows why, but we laughed for a good ten minutes.

By the time we quit laughing, I had my head laid on his chest, tears falling from my eyes from how hard I'd been laughing, and his face was as red as his hair. A few minutes after we stopped laughing I realized what position we were in, and I stood up quickly.

"Oh, I'm sorry about that," I said, a bit awkwardly.

He frowned slightly, and stood up next to me. He brushed off his pants. "It's okay," he said.

"Yeah, but if anyone saw us…" I coughed awkwardly. "You're already in enough trouble,"

He nodded slowly, and then we walked over to the park bench and sat down. I felt his knee press against mine and I didn't move away. I was very, very aware of it though. I liked it.

Eventually I realized it was time for me to get home, so I stood up and said goodbye.

"Hey Frank?" Gerard called, after I had crossed the playground. I turned around.

"Yeah, Gerard?" I called back.

"I liked hanging out with you today," he smiled, and I smiled back because I had no other choice.

"Yeah, I did too. I had a lot of fun,"

"I'll see you at church tomorrow," he smiled. "Maybe we can acolyte together again?"

"I would love that," I said honestly, and then started jogging back home. He had fun hanging out with me, and he wanted to acolyte with me. I don't know if I was euphoric from the fact that I'd actually made a friend, or from the thoughts that maybe Gerard might like me a bit more than friends. Maybe… a boy can dream, right?


	5. Chapter 5

I did in fact get to acolyte with Gerard that Sunday, because Mikey was more than happy to give up his position. We made faces at each other from across the altar, and I managed not to catch the church on fire (even though I did trip on my robe), for which people should be grateful. Like seriously, I should get an award.

Youth Group wasn't horribly traumatizing. Mrs. Berk did in fact talk about honesty and obeying your elders, and I only half listened, even though the entire lesson was directed at me. Obviously I didn't really care at all, but I tried to at least_ look _like I cared this time, unlike Mikey, who still didn't get called out.

The sermon was the weird thing. The pastor talked about how we had to stand firm to our faith, and not fall victim to the ideas of our sinful world. It was horribly obvious that he was hinting at the gay marriage rights campaign that was going on, but he didn't say it directly. Uncle Clark caught it though, and it gave him an excuse to harp on homos the entire car ride home.

I couldn't take it anymore, okay? I had been trying and trying to ignore him, but we had just gotten home after the ten minute car ride and he was still ranting! The stuff he was saying was pretty offensive, and once inside I finally lost it.

"Uncle Clark, would you stop? Please?" I practically begged, massaging my temples because he'd given me a headache. "I think you've gotten your point across. Gay is not the way,"

He glared at me. "You don't agree with me?" he challenged, and I was so irritated that I was stupid enough to be honest.

"I really don't mind homosexuals," I confessed. "If they want to get married, then jim dandy for them,"

Uncle Clark surely had a thing or two to say about that. "It's a sin. It's against the bible. Leviticus-," I cut him off.

"That's the old testament, Uncle Clark!" I demanded. "Jesus changed all that when he came down and died for us!" HA! Look who's been paying attention in confirmation class.

"That doesn't mean it's not a sin," he insisted, and I felt a déjà vu moment from my discussion with Gerard at lunch.

"Doesn't God forgive sin? What about the crook on the cross?" Even though I don't know if I consider homosexuality a sin… It's complicated.

"I've heard enough of you," Uncle Clark growled at me. "Go up to your room, and don't come down until you've gotten your head straight,"

"My head is straight," I said. Maybe a little gay, but I was thinking clearly enough!

"You're thinking like one of_ them,_" he spat out the word them as if it were making him sick, but he was making _me_ sick!

"What if I am one of them!? What if they're right!?" I practically yelled it.

I'd never been hit before. I didn't even see it coming, but suddenly my head was jerked to the side and a loud 'SMACK' reverberated around the room. Time and space froze for a moment, and then it started to hurt. Like really, really hurt. My eyes started watering really bad, and I held my throbbing face in my hand, staring up at my uncle in disbelief. He hit me! He actually hit me!

I bolted up the stairs as quickly and loudly as I could and slammed my bedroom door closed. Happy that it had a lock, I locked the door and collapsed onto my bed. And then I lost it. I was sobbing like a baby into my pillow, not because of how bad my face was hurting, but just because of everything.

I didn't want to be there. I wanted to be back home with my mom. She didn't care that I was bisexual. She loved me. But I'd basically just come out to Uncle Clark and this was how he reacted. I hated it, I hated him, and I just wanted to go home.

I called my mom's cell number and it rang four times before going to voicemail. The ringing had actually given me hope, and when she didn't answer I was devastated. The sound of her voice saying, "I'm not here right now. But leave a message and I'll get back to you," was enough to make me sob harder.

"Mama," I cried into the phone. "I hate it here. I hate it! I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore! Please, Mom, I want to see you again. Please, I love you," I calmed myself down a little bit and added. "Please call me back. I really need to talk to you," and then I hung up and listened to the dial tone for a few minutes.

I don't know why I called Gerard, but I did. He must have heard me crying because the first thing he said was, "What's wrong, Frankie?"

I couldn't say anything, because there were too many things to say. Too many problems.

"Meet me at the park, okay?" he said, and I nodded before realizing he couldn't hear me.

"Okay," I croaked out.

"Five minutes Frankie, okay?" he asked, and I nodded again.

"Okay Gee," I said, then hung up the phone, curled up into a ball and tried to stop freaking out. It didn't work.

My uncle had gone to his room and Tiffany was off playing somewhere. Grandma was in the kitchen and she caught me sneaking out the back door. She didn't say anything though- bless that old woman. She simply gave me a small smile and placed a hand on my shoulder. When she let go I turned and walked out the back door, then ran all the way to the park.

I thought I would have calmed down enough to hold it together, but when Gerard saw me the first thing he did was wrap his arms around me and I lost it again. We stood there for a while, Gerard's arms wrapped around me in a tight hug, me sobbing my eyes out onto his shoulder. I want to apologize to Gerard for that, because it must have been pretty gross for him.

Eventually I pulled away from him and wiped my runny nose on the back of my hand, then rubbed my hand on my jeans. Whatever, Grandma was teaching me to do my own laundry anyways. Gerard reached up and gently wiped the tears from my eyes with his thumb, and then said quietly, "Whatever is wrong, we can find a way to make it better,"

"I don't know how," I confessed. He grabbed me by the wrist, the same way Mikey had when he was leading me to the Sunday School room for the first time, and lead me to sit with him under the slide where all the graffiti was.

"Talk to me," he said, and I did. I told him about my mom working three jobs and my grandma making me move in with her. And I told him about getting suspended from school three times and about how weird it was going to St. Paul's. I told him about the sermon, even though he'd been there to hear it, and then I told him about my uncle and the tv the other day and what he'd gotten Tiffany to say, and I told him about how I'd gotten in an argument with my uncle and how he slapped me. By the time I finished I had tears running down my cheeks again and felt like complete shit, but somewhere along the way Gerard had taken my hand in his and started rubbing small circles on the back of it with his thumb.

"That's a lot of shit to deal with," he said quietly. "I'm here to help you, okay? You're not alone in this,"

"Thanks," I said quietly. Then, since my face was still tingling… "Is there a mark on my face? Like… can you tell?"

He nodded slowly, running a finger over it gently. "It's really red. You might have a bruise from it," I shrugged. I didn't care. That's not what was bothering me; it's just what set me off.

"It really bothers you, then? What your uncle says?" he asked me, and I nodded. No, I just like shouting at people and then bawling like a baby. That's just how I roll! But I can't be mean to Gerard, because he's trying to help me.

The next thing he asked me was, "You're gay?"

I bit down on my lip and said the word, "Bi," and he nodded. I wished he would say something else, but he didn't speak. He just held onto my hand and stared at the phone numbers on the underside of the slide.

"I don't know what I am," he finally said with a sigh. "I know what all the rumors say, about me being gay… but they're all just joking. They're just trying to mess with me. I honestly don't know _what_ I am," I nodded slowly, because that kind of made sense.

Then Gerard spoke again. "I like you, though," he said, which surprised me.

"Huh?" I asked, master of words that I am.

"I like you. I mean, like, like_ like_ you," he said, biting on his lip again. Flashback to fifth grade please.

"I don't really care if they say it's supposed to be wrong," he added, his voice still quiet, "Because it's not like I can control it. If I tried to stop it, then I would just be lying to myself… God wants us to be happy, right?"

I nodded. "I like you too, Gee," I said quietly. "I don't know how we'd be able to…"

"I don't think we can," he sighed. "At least not now. We can't tell anybody,"

"They'd probably crucify us," I said it in such a matter of fact tone, but it sounded funnier than I anticipated and Gerard started laughing. I laughed too, and soon he was leaning his head on my shoulder and laughing, and I really liked it.

It was the perfect timing, and I did it before I could think about it and tell myself not to. I leaned down and kissed him, because I liked him and I'd kind of wanted to do that from the first day I'd seen him standing in the Sunday School room with a bucket of candy on top of his head. It wasn't a deep kiss or anything, just a peck really. But we both pulled away slowly, blushing and staring into each other's eyes.

"Our little secret?" he whispered, and I nodded, licking my lips.

"Yeah, our little secret,"

We just sat there under the slide for a long time, until the sun started setting, and I didn't even worry about being in time for dinner. I felt better after seeing Gerard, and when I walked into the house late, Uncle Clark was watching television with Grandma and Tiffany was already in bed.

"Hello, Frank," Grandma said, smiling at me, and Uncle Clark didn't say anything. I didn't say anything to him either. I just said goodnight to Grandma and went upstairs to my room. It didn't take long to fall asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Monday morning between 'the birds aren't even awake yet!' and 'why am I even alive?' is when I stumbled down the stairs to eat breakfast before school. I was exhausted. The dreams I'd had the night before were those really troubled dreams that crawl from the depths of your conscious to haunt you, but they were also the really confusing kind that make you wonder what drug you'd taken the night prior. I think Gerard was the drug. Maybe he'd coated his lips in a potion that would make me insane, or perfumed himself in a cloud of intoxicating fairy dust. You never know… fucking Lutherans.

The first thing Uncle Clark said to me that morning was "Give me your phone, you're grounded,"

Well good morning to you too, Mr. Grumpy pants. I handed over my phone without protest, because it wouldn't have done any good anyways.

"Why am I grounded?" I mumbled/asked. Too tired to speak properly.

"You missed dinner completely and went out without telling anyone where you were going," Uncle Clark said sternly. "As well as having a blatant display of disrespect after church,"

I rolled my eyes when he couldn't see my face and mumbled, "You weren't being the most tactful person in the world, either,"

"Excuse me Franklin, what was that?" he snapped, and I hurried past him out of the house.

"Nothing," I growled, and then I was out the door.

!

I was expecting Gerard to act weird, but he didn't. He acted just like normal Gerard, and I acted just like normal Frank, and Mikey ignored us and listened to his iPod. It makes me wonder what kind of music he listens to on that thing, because I still don't know. I've speculated on whether he even listens to music. What if he listens to books on that thing, and that's why I never hear him complain about school work? All his reading lessons are being delivered to his brain via ear buds. Or maybe he listens to aliens interrupting radio waves, and he's just waiting for them to strike. Maybe he listens to the bible on that thing… you never know. He is a Lutheran after all.

I got in trouble for the first time ever the other day. It was a Tuesday, and there was a strange schedule change. They passed around sign-up sheets, and we could choose to take Latin, P.E., art, or Psalms Exploration. All of the options sounded painfully horrible, so I chose art. Lucky me, Gerard and Mikey both chose art too.

Art was in the music room, probably because they didn't have any place better. They set up card tables around the room. Gerard, Mikey, and I shared one, which was fun.

Our assignment was to try and paint a portrait of one of the people at our table. Mikey was going to paint me, I was going to paint Gerard, and Gerard was going to paint Mikey. Mikey never really painted anything, and I don't know how he got away with not turning anything in.

Anyways, I was going to get paint, right? Because Gerard wasn't willing to share, telling me I'd mess up the colors he'd already mixed together. (Oh, I should add that this was a Picasso assignment… so Gerard's portrait was very colorful.) I was going to get my own paint so I could start trying to recreate Gerard on my paper. I had a full pallet full of all these colors, right?

I just want to ask… why is someone always a fucking jerk to the new kid? Why? Is there a rule that says someone _has _to be mean to the new kid?

So I was walking back to my table, when some idiot stuck there leg out and I tripped. And I don't mean stumbled, I mean that I tripped and landed on my fucking face on the hard tile floor, smearing paint all over my shirt and tie. I was pissed!

I pushed myself up to stand and turned to the jerk who tripped me. "Uh, excuse you!?" I snapped, glaring at him.

"Poor catholic boy needs to learn to walk, huh? You could have caught the church on fire on Sunday," the kid (it was Charlie) sneered. Wait, someone had actually seen me trip on Sunday? But I DIDN'T set the church on fire! Which is a good thing, right? Why the hell did he trip me?

I decided to ask him. "What the actual fuck dude!?" I demanded, shoving him. Not hard or anything, but that of course is the moment when the teacher decided to look over at us, and Charlie (fucking ham) basically flung himself out of his chair.

"What is going on over here!?" the teacher- Mr. Smith (who was an Elder in the church, by the way. Not sure what that means…) demanded, walking over to us.

"He pushed me!" Charlie whined. "For no reason!"

"He tripped me! Look what he did to my shirt!" I demanded.

"I didn't trip him! He tripped on the table," Charlie frowned and of course Mr. Smith decided to believe _him! _ I looked over at Gerard who was shaking his head and mouthing the words "Apologize and sit down!"

"Frank, just clean it up and go back to your seat," Mr. Smith sighed, as if he didn't know how he got stuck teaching art class to teenagers. He was being pretty decent considerably, so I should have just shut up right there. Too bad I'm an asshole.

"But _he tripped me!_" I insisted, and he shot me this look. Gerard was still mouthing for me to shut up, and he got up from his seat.

"Come on, Frank. I'll help you clean up," he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me down to help him clean up. He'd already gotten paper towel and everything, because he's awesome. I still sucked.

"This is fucking bullshit," I said, directed at Gerard, but I know I said it too loud. Gerard cringed and I felt a hand on the back of my neck.

The hand pulled me up to stand, and then Mr. Smith's voice practically growled the words, "Go wait in the hallway,"

So I did. Art was the last class for the day, so I just stood in the hallway and waited for the bell to ring. When it finally did I leaned against the wall and watched all the other students walk past me. A lot of them gave me looks that read, 'You poor sucker,' and others gave me looks that read, 'I hope he castrates you.' Gerard didn't keep walking; he stopped outside the door and didn't say anything. He just stood there… obviously he was waiting for me. He made Mikey wait with him.

!

Detention at Washington was a walk through a field of daisies compared to St. Paul's. When I finally walked out of that stupid music room twenty minutes later both my pride and something else felt damaged. I was practically limping.

Gerard and Mikey were still waiting for me, leaning against the wall. Mikey had taken out one of his ear buds and Gerard was listening to it. He smiled pitifully when he saw me.

"How you doing?" Gerard asked, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

"That hurt," I pouted. Because it did. Gerard smirked slightly, but it looked like he was trying not to. Mikey just started chuckling at me. I found out that with Mikey, whispering equated talking, chuckling equated laughing, and grinning slightly equated a smile. It was hard to actually get him to smile, talk at a normal volume, or laugh. He was now laughing at me, which kind of pissed me off.

Gerard giggled slightly too. "We've been through it, dude," he explained, grinning. "We know your pain,"

If he wasn't so God damned cute I would have been kind of mad. But I couldn't be mad. The only thing that worried me was the paper in my pocket. I was supposed to get it signed by my 'legal guardian' so that they would know I got in trouble at school. My plan was to have Grandma sign it when Uncle Clark wasn't around, because I figured she'd be nicer than Uncle Clark would.

"First of many," Mikey said, after he finished laughing at me. His voice was quiet as always. "Welcome to the club,"

"Yeah, whatever," I mumbled. "I don't like this club very much. The initiation sucks,"

They started laughing at me again. Wonderful friends I have, huh? Honestly, I would have laughed too if it was one of them.

I went straight home because I didn't want to test my luck. After all, I was already grounded. I'd just walked out on Uncle Clark the morning prior (which he was not a happy camper about). And now I'd gotten in trouble at school. One of the main reasons I was here was because I kept getting in trouble at school. Something told me that this would not go over well.

I had even wore my blazer for once, just so nobody would see the horrible pain stains on my clothes. I'd find a way to take care of that later…

!

How did it go over well? I am honestly confused. I waited until after dinner, when Uncle Clark went to watch Wheel of Fortune and Grandma was in the kitchen doing dishes. I was somehow still sore, so sitting at the dinner table had sucked- a lot. I was really nervous about showing her the note, but when I finally did, she took it quite well.

"Hey Grandma," I said quietly, pulling the thing out of my pocket. I didn't say anything, just kind of stared at the floor tiles while she read it over. She glanced from me to the note, and then asked the question quietly.

"Was it worth it?" she asked. I was kind of caught off guard that she wasn't mad at me.

I shrugged. "Not really,"

"Make it worth it next time," she said, then took out a pen and signed it. She handed it back to me, and I stuck it in my pocket. I was confused. Had she really just said…? I like this lady. It's official.

"Help me do the dishes," she instructed, and I joined her at the sink.

"Could you possibly teach me how to get paint out of clothing?" I asked, carefully drying off a plate she had handed me.

"Does this have anything to do with that paper you had me sign?" she didn't look at me, but I could tell from the tone of her voice that she was raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I swear the paint stain wasn't my fault! I just made it worse… by being an asshole…"

"That's a good way to get yourself in trouble," she tutted. "But then again, everyone has to be an asshole from time to time. Go up to bed now, I'll finish,"

My grandma is strange. I like her.


	7. Chapter 7

I had forgotten about calling my mom… I really had. So I was seriously caught by surprise on Friday afternoon when I got home. Earlier that week Gerard had gotten in trouble. I couldn't get specific details, but basically he got in a fight. Mikey told me that the guys had been saying something about their dad, and Gerard just snapped. He had to go talk to the pastor, which seems like a big deal to me, but Mikey didn't seem too worried. I tried talking to Gerard about it, but he just brushed me off. I don't blame him. I wouldn't be keen on talking about it either.

So anyways, on Friday afternoon I was walking home with the Way brothers, like we tend to, and they invited me to spend the night at their house. The only other time I've ever spent the night at someone's house was when we were smoking pot, and we were both too high to move so we just passed out. I figured that this time wouldn't be anything like that.

They had turned down the road to their house and I was running to ask if I could spend the night. I planned to ask Grandma, not Uncle Clark, because I had a feeling Grandma would say yes. I knew Uncle Clark would say no.

When I got to the house I ran through the front door like a cyclone of energy. "I'm home!" I called out happily. But nobody answered. I stopped, looking around, and automatically feeling uneasy. "Hello?" I called out.

"We're on the back porch, dear," my grandmother's voice reached me, and I carefully placed my bag on the floor before walking to the porch. It just didn't _feel_ right. You know what I mean?

Imagine my surprise when I walked onto the back porch and was instantly glomped by my mother. For one, I hadn't been hugged by anyone besides Gerard for the past five-ish weeks. Secondly, my mom was there! I hugged her back, and it was only when she pulled away and I saw the disapproving expression on Uncle Clark's face that I felt uneasy again.

"What's going on?" I asked slowly, and my mom led me to sit down next to her on the porch swing.

"I'm here because of a phone call you made last weekend," my mom said, and I immediately began trying to remember if I'd made any prank phone calls… then I thought back. And I remembered kissing Gerard, and then I remembered calling my mom. The memory came rushing back and hit me on the forehead.

"Oh…"

"Baby! I had no idea you were so unhappy here! Why didn't you get a hold of me sooner!?" she insisted, sounding like my very worried mother. I had really missed her.

"I-I was… just upset…" I said slowly, trying to find words to explain myself. Uncle Clark continued staring me down. "It's no big deal…"

"I've been trying to call you all week but couldn't get through," My mom explained, and I pinched my lips together.

"He's grounded," Uncle Clark droned. "The boy needs to learn how to hold his tongue," I rolled my eyes without meaning to and he jabbed a finger at me. "See!? That is exactly the problem! Complete disrespect,"

Hypocrisy is really annoying… just saying. One of my pet peeves. Whenever I see Uncle Clark my middle finger gets a boner.

"Oh hush, Clarence," Grandma rolled her eyes. THIS is why I like this woman.

My mom set arm around my shoulders, a loving gesture she's always done, and I kind of leaned into her. Because I hadn't been able to for five weeks, and because I kind of missed it.

"I think Frank should move back in with me," my mom said, squeezing my shoulder. "Obviously he's unhappy here,"

"He's confused and out of hand. He needs to stay here! He needs the church," Uncle Clark insisted.

"He doesn't need _you_ traumatizing him!" Mom said, raising her voice at Uncle Clark, and I bit down on my lip. I had sounded like a complete wreck on the message I'd left her. No wonder she was so worried about me…

"It's called parenting!" Uncle Clark yelled, "If you knew anything about that we wouldn't even be in this situation!" Ouch. That was harsh.

"I do the best I can for him! You know that!" she yelled back, her face turning red. She removed her arm from my shoulders.

"You could have started by not marrying that dead beat!" Uncle Clark yelled. Well excuse me, Mr. Asshole! Fuck you! (Haha, see what I did there? Buttsex anyone? Not with my uncle though… I mean, EW INCEST!)

"Who I marry and what I do with my life is my business, not yours," My mother said firmly, glaring at Uncle Clark.

"It becomes my business when you're an embarrassment to the family!" Uncle Clark said. "Maybe Frank wouldn't be such a problem if he had a father in his life!"

"Frank isn't a problem, Clark!" my mom yelled. "And he has a father! It's not like he completely abandoned us,"

"Oh please, your husband left you to play the devil's music, and Frank's heading in the same direction! Frank doesn't have his father in his life! He doesn't even have a mother!" That was the final blow, because my mother started to cry. I couldn't take any more of this.

"Leave my mom alone!" I yelled, standing. "You don't know anything about us!"

"You have no _right_ to speak to me in that tone of voice, young man," Uncle Clark growled, and I glared at him.

"You have no right to say those things about me and my mom! She's always done the best she could for me! So just shut your fucking mouth for once and stop being such a fucking dick!" I said through clenched teeth, and I'm still very confused by what happened next.

Before I get started, don't ask why my grandma keeps a yard stick on the porch. I don't know either. Fucking Lutherans. The only thing I do know is that my grandma is stronger than she looks. I had barely finished my sentence before that damn yard stick cracked across my ass. And I mean cracked. Hard. I shut up immediately, jutting forward slightly and gasping because, hey, I was not prepared for that!

"Franklin, you are out of line," she said sternly. "Apologize," I gave her a look of dejection, and she made this scary, threatening face. Well fuck.

"I'm sorry," I said, biting down on my lip and slipping my hands into my back pockets, because, uh OW! My face blushed pink, and I felt five years old. I glared down at my shoes because none of this was fair.

"Clarence, apologize," Grandma said. He shot her a look of disbelief, but her stink eye held threats that I didn't want to pry at. Obviously Uncle Clark didn't either.

"I apologize," he said, but he didn't mean it. He meant his about as much as I meant mine… which was not at all.

"Now Frank, sit down, and we can discuss this like civilized people," Grandma said, still glaring at everyone.

I sat, cause it's not like I had a choice, huh? They started arguing again about what they were going to do with me-quieter this time. My mom was winning the argument, and it looked like I might move back in with her… but then I couldn't help but think about all the trouble Grandma had gone through to become my legal guardian, sign me up at St. Paul's, welcome me into her house… and I had only been there five weeks. What kind of an ungrateful little shit was I?

Then my mind shifted to Gerard and Mikey, and I bit down on my lip again, thinking about kissing Gerard in the park. And walking with Mikey to the Sunday School room. Gerard with a bucket of candy on his head. Hearing Mikey's voice, "Welcome to the club." Gerard had invited me over to his house… I'd actually made two real friends, and I really liked them. Especially Gerard. I _really_ liked him. How could I just leave?

"I-I don't want to go," I said quietly. "I… I have friends here… and… it's not so bad," I bit down on my lip again, a habit I'd formed since I could no longer pull on my lip ring. It was good enough.

"You're sure, Frank?" my mom asked, and I made eye contact with my grandmother before nodding.

"Then it is decided," my grandmother said, giving a small grin. I think she was happy that I decided to stay. I think I'm happy too.

We hung out for a little while longer, and when it was time for my mom to leave she hugged me really tight like it was my first day of kindergarten and she didn't want me to grow up and leave her. I also heard her whisper a threat in Uncle Clark's ear. "If you harm him in any way, I promise I will kill you, slowly and painfully," Aww my mom's so sweet.

!

It seemed like a bad time… but I needed to ask anyways. Grandma was sitting in the living room folding towels and Uncle Clark was reading the newspaper. I sat down next to Grandma and started helping her.

"Having him do woman's tasks is not going to help him any," Uncle Clark mumbled under his breath, and Grandma told him to shush.

"Can I go to a friend's house tonight?" I asked Grandma. Of course Uncle Clark spoke up anyways.

"You're still grounded," he said, and I ignored him.

"Your uncle's right. You're still grounded tonight," Grandma said, and my face dropped slightly. "However, after tonight you are ungrounded…" she said, and I looked at her curiously. "You could spend the night tomorrow, go to church with them in the morning. How about you go call them up? Mrs. Way is a nice lady. I'm sure she won't mind,"

"How did you know I was talking about the Ways?" I asked. I hadn't mentioned whose house I wanted to go to.

Grandma gave me that all knowing glance, convincing me further that Lutherans use magic, and then said, "Go call."

!

Mrs. Way is really, really nice. I went over to their house at about three, and she greeted me with a hug. I'm getting a lot of hugs these days. Their house is exactly what I'd expected- clean, white, expensive. It was large, and all the carpets were the whitest white that I was scared to walk on. I took my shoes off at the door, and I never do that. It was the kind of clean that I made an effort to not touch the walls because I didn't want to get anything dirty.

Gerard greeted me with a hug as well, and his mom didn't bat an eye lash. I think he regretted it though, because he looked kind of nervous afterwards. He showed me his room, and it was very, very clean. Just like everything else.

"My mom makes me keep it clean," he said. When I asked why he didn't have any posters on the walls (but they were dark blue, so it didn't look bad) he said that "Mom doesn't want me peeling the paint off,"

Then he told me that he had something cool to show me. He had me sit on his bed and close my eyes, and I was kind of anxious because I thought that when I opened them he was going to be naked or something. He wasn't naked, but his closet doors were flung open.

"Wow…" I said slowly, because I couldn't find any other words. The insides of his closet doors were completely plastered with posters from magazines. There were pictures of every rock band in my cd collection, and some I didn't even recognize.

"Cool, huh?" he asked. I nodded dumbly. A poster at the bottom caught my attention.

"That's Marilyn Manson," I said, and he laughed.

"Yupp, he's decent. You like him?" he asked, and I nodded.

"A boy like _you_ has a picture of the anti-Christ in his closet…" I said slowly, and then started giggling. Because that was pretty ridiculous. I mean, he had five different bibles placed neatly on a book shelf. There was a crucifix on the wall above his bed. His conformation sash was hanging up in the closet. Gerard was the picture perfect Lutheran boy, and he was hiding the anti-Christ in his closet! He started laughing too, and eventually we were both laying on his bed, side to side, and his shoulder was pressed into mine.

I couldn't control it. I leaned over and kissed him, and he froze initially, but the relaxed and kissed me back. I rolled so that I was laying on top of him, and we kept kissing. One of us opened our mouth and the kiss got deeper. I was hardly aware that we had begun working out hips together, or that Gerard's hands were on my ass, or that mine were tangled in his hair.

"Oh," a voice broke us out of our trance, and we sprung apart so hard that I fell off the bed. Mikey was standing in the doorway, ear buds in his ears and eyes wide behind his glasses. Gerard looked scared to death, his eyes wide, and his face red. His lips were red too, but I figured that was my fault.

"M-Mikey… please…" he said.

"I didn't realize it was _that _kind of sleep over," Mikey said, smirking. "Does this mean the movie marathon is off?"

I grinned, because Mikey was being really cool about it, but Gerard still looked worried. "Don't worry, Gee," Mikey said, looking genuine now. "I won't tell. Cross my heart and hope mom catches me masturbating to Spongebob. I won't tell anyone," He winked at us, and then left the room laughing.

Gerard was smiling now, so it felt better.

!

We stayed up really late in Mikey's room watching cheesy horror movies from the 1970's. It started with 'The Blob,' and moved onto 'Dawn of the Dead.' Then we watched, 'The Birds,' which is more funny than scary. Mikey passed out somewhere in the middle of 'Friday the Thirteenth,' and Gerard and I started making out again. I hope Mikey doesn't mind that we were making out on his bedroom floor, with him asleep three feet away. He probably wouldn't care if he knew anyways.

New theory about his iPod. He might listen to porn on that thing. Like audiobooks, you know? But dirty ones. Fifty Shades of Squidward. It's a possibility…


	8. Chapter 8

It's not like I was ever aiming for popularity… I think that much should be obvious enough. I mean, I spend all my free time hanging out with the Way brothers- St. Paul's biggest and only loners. I committed the 'social crime' of signing up for acolyting at least every other week. And then let's not forget how I shoved Charlie out of his chair. (For a reason I don't understand, everybody loves Charlie. Every girl from third grade up wants to have his babies. I don't see the appeal. He's not even cute!)

But even with all that, it still took me by surprise when Kayla came up to me on Monday and told me that I'd just committed social suicide. Why do I care? I don't! I just don't see what the big deal is about joining choir.

It was Gerard's idea after he snuck up on me at the park and I was singing "Turning Japanese." You know the song? It's a good song. Honestly I'm not much of a singer, but Gerard said that for choir you didn't have to be. He said I was good enough. He practically begged me to join.

So I committed social suicide. Thankfully the choir geek himself and our secret keeper don't seem completely appalled by my bad judgment, so I still have friends. There have been more comments flying around about my sexuality though. Why are these people so interested?

"Only queers sing in choir," Graham told me during Chemistry, but he wasn't being necessarily mean about it. "Singing is a girl's thing. Why not play Basketball or Baseball like the rest of us?" He seemed genuinely confused, and even though he was the only non-Way who was actually holding a conversation with me over the past three weeks, I decided to mess with him. Because life isn't fair, and I'm an asshole.

"You know, I was thinking about joining badminton," I said as wistfully as I could manage. Graham shook his head quickly.

"No no no, do you WANT someone to stick your gym shorts in the toilet?" he asked, looking scared for my life. "Because people will do that you know,"

I got in trouble again… and it's not even getting my ass whipped that has me bummed out right now. Or the fact that I have to help Pastor Don grade confirmation class papers after school for week. Well… why don't I just tell you what happened… and we can try to make sense of it together:

It started with Charlie, because it always starts with Charlie. Okay, so it wasn't just Charlie. It was also Chase and Brandon. It was free period, and we had a random choir rehearsal. I didn't know about this, and spent about five minutes wandering around looking for Gerard before a teacher told me. So I took off for the choir room.

I didn't realize that Gerard had come looking for me, or that the group of jerks was following me. Then the guys started throwing taunts at me. Charlie started it, and the others just joined in. More gay shit. Whatever, I didn't really care.

"Hey faggot," Charlie's voice reached me and I stiffened. I figured that if I kept walking I could make it to the music room without anything happening.

"Why'd you join choir?" the boy named Brandon asked me. He had a nasally voice that irritated me. I shrugged him off and kept walking.

"Hey!" Chase barked. "Don't ignore us, midget," he grabbed my arm and yanked me back, causing me to stop walking. Chase was a chubby kind of guy, but he was strong too. His messy brown hair fell over his acne covered face in greasy curls. I turned towards them slowly and pulled my arm from his grasp.

"What?" I tried to keep my voice even, but irritation was seeping in.

Charlie gave me a lopsided smirk that I didn't trust. "We just want to have a friendly chat with ya,"

It was obvious by this tone that this 'chat' would not be so friendly. Besides, they'd already called me a faggot and a midget. Last I checked those weren't exactly compliments.

"Why'd you join choir?" Charlie asked it this time, and again I shrugged a response.

"You want to be a choir boy? You really are a pussy, huh?" Chase sneered at me. I gritted my teeth and took a deep breath to calm myself. _Make it worth it,_ Grandma told me. It wasn't worth it yet.

"If you'll excuse me," the tone of my voice was sarcastic, "this pussy needs to get to choir practice. I'm already late," I turned and sped away from them. I had it planned in my mind that I would just ignore whatever they said and kept walking. My will power is weak.

"You joined choir for your boyfriend, didn't you?" Brandon yelled after me.

"Shut up, Brandon," I called over my shoulder, still not turning back. I was walking slower though.

"So he IS your boyfriend then!?" Charlie was almost laughing in excitement. WHY did he care so damned much?

"Who?" I decided to play dumb.

"Gerard, dumb ass," Chase spat at me, rolling his eyes. They approached me again, and that was when I realized I'd stopped walking.

I stared at them blankly for a moment. "I don't have a boyfriend," I shrugged, moving to make another escape, but this time they cut me off. Brandon planted his sturdy wall-of-a-person body right in the way and I couldn't get past him. He was built like a football player. UGH NO TIME FOR THIS SHIT.

Charlie laughed dryly. "You think we haven't noticed? You think the entire school hasn't noticed? You two are always together… and it's obvious that you're," he raised an eyebrow, "in relations,"

I sighed obnoxiously and rolled my eyes. "Well _excuse me _for having a best friend. Jealous much?"

"Sorry bro, I like vaginas. You know, the way I'm _supposed _to," Brandon laughed, and they all started laughing at me.

"Straight and narrow, dude," Chase added.

"Gerard isn't my boyfriend!" I exclaimed, glaring at all of them. Now after all of this has happened, I know that Charlie's facial expression changed because he saw Gerard standing behind me. I didn't know it at the time.

"He's not! Okay!? He's my friend, that's it! But even if he was gay… Even if he was my boyfriend!" I was yelling now, attracting too much attention, but I couldn't stop myself. "What would it matter!? Love the sinner, hate the sin, right? It's not the end of the world if we're gay!"

"Frank…" Gerard's voice caught me off guard, and I turned to look at him. He looked… well I don't really know. Angry, sad, scared, surprised? The best word is upset. And even though I had been trying to stand up for him, I have this aching feeling that it's my fault he's so upset. He shook his head and took off running down the hallway, away from us. This is the thing I am confused about.

"Run faggot! Run!" Charlie called, and I'd had enough. People started to fill into the hallway after that, but I barely noticed because I was seeing red.

"Leave Gerard alone," I growled out, clenching my fists.

"Excuse me, what was that, twinkle toes?" Charlie was laughing again.

"For Christ's sake, LEAVE HIM ALONE!" I roared, and then I jumped on him. Somehow, and I'm betting it's my fault, we got to the ground. I was on top of him, trying to punch him in the face as many times as I could. I didn't really get to hit him much because soon strong arms were hauling me off of him.

"Franklin! Enough!" one of the men who were holding me barked. Charlie scrambled to his feet, his face gushing blood everywhere. I wanted more blood. I wanted to destroy that pretty face of his. I was so pissed.

I tried to pull my arms free from the men holding me, but I wasn't strong enough. I saw Charlie smirk again and it just made me so so angry. Because he was going to get away with this, I knew it, and I was gonna get it again. Charlie was the guy who always got away with it.

Then he did it. He mouthed the word 'faggot,' and I lost it. "You fucking-," I don't feel comfortable even typing the word I called him. To put it _blunt_ly, the word starts with a 'c.' Everyone shut up. And I mean everyone. It looked like all the students from sixth grade up had gathered around to watch, and I'm betting most of their 'oh so innocent' ears had never heard that word before. I found myself, very quickly, seated in the main office, crying like a baby next to a kindergartener who had a scraped knee and a lollipop.

I was expecting death. Like complete and total death and destruction. I don't want to say that's why I was crying though. I was crying because I was angry, okay? I was angry and embarrassed, but mostly angry. When Pastor Don came up and placed a hand on my shoulder I jumped clear out of my chair. He gave a small smile and said something confusing.

"Walk with me," He didn't sound angry at all, which is mostly why I was confused.

So I got up and followed him.

We just walked around for a while, basically until I was able to calm down. We went over to the church and he explained stuff that I didn't know, such as the red candle hanging from the ceiling being the 'eternal flame,' but in reality it went out at least once a week and an elder had to relight it again. He told me not to tell anyone this. He also explained the pictures in the stained glass windows, and why there was one with an upside down cross. He laughed when I told him that I thought upside down crosses were a satanic symbol, and that I was kinda confused when I first started going there. Apparently one of the disciples was crucified upside down, and that's why that picture is there.

Lutherans are weird. They don't really care much about the saints, but they care an awful lot about the disciples.

"Can you tell me what happened now?" he asked, as we were sitting up in the very first church pew looking up at the altar. I didn't know at the time that he'd already talked to Charlie about it. All I knew was that the church was creepy without the lights on.

"They keep calling me a faggot," I said quietly.

"Who?" he knew who, but he wanted me to say it.

I didn't feel good about ratting, but I was sick and tired of these guys. "Charlie, Brandon, Chase…"

"So they were calling you names…"

"I was trying to ignore them. I just wanted to get to choir practice, because I was already late…" I explained. He nodded encouragingly. "But then they started talking about my friend,"

"Who's your friend?"

"You know Gerard Way?" I asked.

He grinned. "Yes, of course," It sounded slightly like he was mocking me.

"Yes, of course. Small school. You know everyone," I shrugged. "Anyways, he's like my best friend. But everyone thinks we're gay. I'm not turning this into a confession, so don't even ask. I just know that Gerard gets a lot of crap from people. They're always messing with him, because he's not like everyone else. Like… his hair, for instance. Freaking cool hair, but everyone bugs him about it."

"So you feel like you need to protect him?" Pastor Don asked me, and I nodded, because that made sense.

"He was there for me when I needed him," I said. "I really care about him. I don't want anyone tearing him down. He doesn't deserve that,"

"Gerard is a good kid," Pastor Don agreed. "He's very smart and kind, but he's also very independent. He's always marched to his own drum, but in a community like this, it's hard to get away with that,"

"It sucks," I said, obviously over the fact that it was the pastor I was talking to. He seemed like a normal guy, which was pretty cool. The Priests I had known had never seemed this normal. This human.

"Are you happy here, Frank?" Pastor Don asked, and I shrugged.

"I have Gerard and Mikey, so I guess I'm okay," I said. We were walking again, crossing the lot between the church and the school. "You know Gerard's having kind of a hard time right now… he's kind of at war with himself. He seems to be really worried about disappointing his dad or something," I bit my lip, out of habit. "Do you think you could talk to him?"

Pastor Don gave me a warm smile and patted me on the shoulder. "Of course,"

"Hey Pastor Don," he raised an eyebrow, glancing at me. "Am I in trouble?"

"Should you be in trouble?" he asked me. Should I be? Probably. Do I want to be? Hell no.

I shrugged. "My grandma said that the next time I get my ass whipped I needed to make sure it was worth it," I explained. "That's why I waited as long as I did before I punched him,"

"You didn't answer my question," Pastor Don said, and I felt compelled to stick my tongue out at him. I didn't, but I wanted to.

"You didn't answer mine," I retorted, and instead of getting mad, he just grinned. My dad used to grin like that. Well… he probably still does, I just don't see him enough to know. After a period of time when neither of us spoke, I took the initiative.

"I probably deserve to be in trouble," I sighed. "But so does Charlie. Just so we're clear," That made Pastor Don laugh. I think I might grow to like this guy.


	9. Chapter 9

Gerard and Mikey weren't waiting to walk with me after school, which bummed me out. I walked home slowly, studying the sidewalk the entire time. It didn't settle in how bad I'd messed up until the next day at school. Gerard wasn't waiting by my locker before school, and he wasn't at his own either. I couldn't find Mikey, but I never could find Mikey in the mornings. During lunch Gerard was still MIA and Mikey was sitting at a table with some other freshman. Despite the fact that I'm a sophomore and they're freshman, I couldn't find the guts to go over there. I just sat at our usual table and didn't eat.

During free period I was still alone. Turns out that when Gerard's not at school Mikey actually has a social life. It made me wonder why Mikey spent all his time with Gerard when he could be so popular. I found a corner in the gym and doodled in my Confirmation notebook. It wasn't anything interesting. I certainly didn't doodle 'Mr. Frank Way,' or 'Gee + Frankie = foreva' in a big heart, even though I was tempted. If anyone found that then they'd finally have solid evidence that I'm a faggot.

Mikey finally had to acknowledge my existence in art class, and we sat there silently for a few minutes.

"Where's Gerard?" was the first question I asked.

Mikey shrugged. "He stayed home. Told Mom he wasn't feeling well,"

"Ah," I stared at the table for a minute or two. "Mikey, are you mad at me?"

Mikey raised his eyebrows. "No, I'm not mad at you Frank," he said. "Of course not,"

"You avoided me all day," I said a bit sadly.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I'm just really worried about Gerard… he's pretty torn up,"

"Why?" I said, louder than I intended. "I stood up for him! I didn't do…"

"It's complicated Frank," Mikey said, louder than I'd ever heard him speak. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm not mad at you. Okay? I promise. But why don't we have Gerard explain it to you? You can come by after school,"

"Will he want to see me?" I asked.

"I don't care. It's not right for you idiots to be so miserable. He has a lot to explain to you Frank, and I think it'll be good for him to actually talk about it to someone besides me,"

So I followed Mikey home today, because Pastor Don said that I didn't have to help him grade papers today. He said he decided to just go straight home after school was over. When we got to the Way house, Mikey dragged me quickly through the house and up the stairs. He opened Gerard's door and shoved me inside.

"Talk to him!" he demanded, following me in.

Gerard was sitting at his computer on facebook, and he raised an eyebrow when he saw me.

"Why is he here?" he asked Mikey. Ouch.

"Because you need to talk to him," Mikey said and Gerard rolled his eyes.

"I'm busy," Gerard said, still on facebook.

"Obviously," Mikey sounded really sarcastic.

"Why… why are you so mad at me?" I asked, my voice holding more pain that I meant for it to.

Gerard sighed and dropped his head in his hands. "I'm not angry," he sighed. "It's complicated," Then _tell me! _Tell me what's so complicated! What did I do to make you hate me!?

"Gerard, either you tell him or I tell him," Mikey growled out, but Gerard just shrugged him off. Mikey smirked. "Fine, you tell Frank, or I tell dad,"

Gerard's mouth dropped. "You wouldn't dare,"

"Wanna bet!?" Mikey challenged. "DAD!" he yelled.

"Mikey! What the hell!?" Gerard yelled, standing now.

"You need to explain what's going on, Gerard!" Mikey demanded. "Frank doesn't deserve this! He was trying to stand up for you, ya know!? You're not the one who got your ass beat yesterday at his expense!"

I shrunk back against the wall, because it was my fault they were fighting. Of course it's my fault. I always mess things up. I always upset people. I didn't deserve friends.

"I didn't ask him to!" Gerard yelled. "I cannot be held responsible for this!"

"If someone was making fun of him… tell me that you wouldn't do the same thing! I know you would! Because admit it or not, you like him! You like Frank, you're just afraid to admit it!" The room dropped silent as Mikey and Gerard glared at each other.

A knock came at the door, and all of us jumped slightly. Then the door opened and Pastor Don poked his head in. Wait… what!? Was I hallucinating? Why was Pastor Don at the Way's house?

"Is everything okay, boys?" he asked. "Your mother heard yelling," Mikey shot a look at Gerard that held a threat. I just stood there confused.

"Everything's fine," Gerard said. "We were arguing over a video game," Liar liar pants on fire. If Pastor Don could really read minds, then Gerard was in trouble.

"Alright boys, play nice," Pastor Don chuckled and Gerard gave him a weak smile. Mikey didn't smile, because he was Mikey. And well, I was too confused to manage facial expressions.

"Sure thing, Dad," Gerard said. Dad?

Oh…


	10. Chapter 10

"You know what happens if I'm gay Frank? Or bi?" Gerard asked, sounding angry, and I didn't know if he was angry at me or himself or just the situation. I shook my head no.

"My dad loses his job," Gerard said, clenching his fists and dropping into the desk chair.

I was a little shocked, but I swallowed it. "Why didn't you tell me your dad was the pastor?" I asked, squeezing my hands together and then rubbing them on school pants. Then squeezing them together again.

"Figured you already knew… didn't think it was really important," Gerard said with a shrug.

"That's a bull shit answer," I said bluntly and he looked somewhat startled.

"Fine! Maybe I wanted to make a friend with someone without them thinking I was some kind of goodie two shoes pastor's kid, okay?" Gerard said.

"Says the kid with the red hair," I heaved a sigh as Gerard narrowed his eyes at me. "I didn't even know that Pastors could have families! Priests can't…"

"Pastors aren't fucking Catholic, Frank," Gerard suddenly snapped. I rolled my eyes, pretending that his shortness didn't hurt, and leaned back against the wall.

"Was Mikey right?" I asked, and Gerard eyed me carefully. "Do you still like me? …I don't know what I did wrong…" I admitted, staring down at the carpet.

"When you said 'what if we are gay?' all those losers heard was 'we're gay!' I've been denying since last year because I can't do that to my dad… If I keep denying then it isn't an issue," Gerard leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

"What would the church think if they knew you had the antichrist in your closet?" I asked.

"There's a reason he's in my closet," Gerard said, scowling. It was too perfect. I had to say it.

"There's a reason we are too," I said and it actually made Gerard grin. He grinned and then he started to laugh. I walked across his uber clean room and straddled him on his desk chair. I kissed him, because it felt right, and smiled when he kissed me back, wrapping his arms around my waist so I wouldn't fall off of the chair. We stayed like that for quite a while, until one of us pulled back for need oxygen. I don't remember which one of us it was. I stayed there and rested my forehead against Gerard's. He frowned before saying,

"I have a girlfriend now,"

And then I was gone. I don't mean simply mentally, I mean that I literally got off of Gerard and walked out of his house. In the closet I could deal with. But I couldn't deal with being Gerard's secret fuck buddy while he led on an innocent girl to save his reputation. Maybe I'm being too harsh, but I don't condone cheating.

"Everything alright, Frank?" Pastor Don asked me on my way out.

I nodded, staring blankly and not making eye contact.

"You don't look so good, kiddo. You want me to call your grandma?" he asked, holding the back of his hand up to my forehead. I stepped away from him.

"I feel fine," I reassured him. "It's a short walk,"

I was finally out the door, this time not staring at the side walk but instead at the sky. It didn't look like rain the way it would have if my life were a movie. It was nice and sunny, laughing at me and telling me I had hours to deal with being conscious before I could sleep. Mocking me by telling me that my emotional agony meant nothing to the world. God couldn't have even blessed me with a rain cloud. As if I didn't deserve to be miserable.

Maybe I don't. After all, in a rational way of thinking I understand why Gerard has a girlfriend. If he's feigning straight then it would certainly help to have a cover. Maybe I should have asked who she was… no doubt one of the school girls. Whenever I heard some of the younger grade girls talking about their infatuation with the pastor's son, I never realized that they were talking about Gerard or Mikey… it bothered me that no one had told me over the past five weeks that Pastor Don was their dad. Pastor Don hadn't even told me when I asked him to look after Gerard. No wonder he laughed. He probably thought I was pathetic.

He was too nice to me.

I realized on my walk home that I probably hurt Gerard by walking out like that, and that only made me feel more and more like scum. I slinked into the house and found myself in the living room. Tiffany was playing with little pony toys, and I stood in the doorway watching her for a while.

She noticed me eventually.

"Can I play?" I asked. Fuck, why did I just ask that? Did I really want to spend my afternoon of emotional torture playing ponies with a seven year old?

"Daddy won't like it," she said, staring up at me with big eyes, but her face told me that she really wanted me to play. Seven year olds are easy to read. Maybe that's why Gerard likes teaching Sunday school so much. Kids aren't fake.

"I don't give a fuck," I said, kneeling down on the floor next to her.

"You said a bad word," she said, frowning slightly. "If Meme hears she'll wash your mouth out with soap, and if daddy hears…."

"You gonna tell on me?" I asked, not really giving a flying fuck whether I had my mouth washed out with soap or not. I was too numb to really care about anything. She shook her head no, that she wouldn't tell on me, and handed me the green pony, telling me it was a boy's color. I asked her if she liked the green one and she hesitated before saying that she was supposed to like girl colors. I sighed in defeat, slightly scared that Tiffany was going to be brainwashed past repair. She didn't really understand me when I told her she could like whatever kind of colors she wanted.

!

Bathroom stalls aren't a very good place for hyperventilating. Just saying.

Gerard has a girlfriend. I had kind of forgotten about it overnight, but when I got to school, there they were, a giant slap in the face. Gerard didn't look at me. He didn't make eye contact. He just sat there, holding Melanie's hand, and continued talking to her.

Then she kissed him on the cheek, and I thought I was going to be sick. That's why I'm in the bathroom stall, struggling to breathe horrible smelling air and losing my mind.

Lunch was awkward, because Gerard, Mikey, Melanie, and I all sat at our table. Mikey didn't say anything because he was Mikey and he was too busy with his iPod full of spongebob porn and his green jello cup. Call me crazy, but I think that he seemed even more distant that usual. He shot me a single glance that looked sympathetic and I faked a smile for him. We both knew what we were trying to say without words.

Gerard is an asshole.

Melanie talked the entire time. About everything. About lip gloss and her mom's insurance business and her Chihuahua puppy. I accidently smiled when she talked about the puppy, but come on. It's a fucking puppy. Who doesn't like puppies!? I don't think Gerard was particularly interested in what she was saying, but he did his best to act like it. He slipped a few times though. I don't think Melanie caught it. She was too busy sucking the oxygen out of the room.

She asked me if I was actually a queer like everyone said.

I responded by asking her if unicorns used their horns for butt sex.

…Gerard and Melanie didn't sit with us the next day at lunch.

I still have Gerard for art class, and he's trying his best to make it fun but I'm still mad at him. Technically I'm the one who's being an asshole now for not getting over it yet, but I can't. I just can't do it. Maybe I'm the most pissed about the time he decided to tell me that he had a girlfriend. Right in the fucking middle of our make out session. Just… DUDE! COME ON!

So Mikey listened to his iPod and didn't draw, I failed miserably at drawing a rabbit while ignoring Gerard, and Gerard finally gave up at trying to talk to me and started drawing in silence. I hate it. I hate everything.

!

Three days have passed since I've last spoken to Gerard. Fuck my life, we're signed up for acolyting together. I had the decency to say 'hey' today, and he said it back. He didn't make faces at me from across the altar this time. In fact, he looked really sad.

"What's wrong with Gerard?" I asked Mikey after church.

"Did you ask him?" he actually took out an ear phone to talk to me. Wow, I feel special.

"We aren't exactly on speaking terms," I said, and Mikey rolled his eyes.

"He doesn't teach Sunday school anymore. They gave his class to Mrs. Candreva," Mikey said, frowning, but then gave a shrug as if to say 'who give a fuck.'

"They replaced him!? But he-,"

"I know…"

"That's not fair,"

"Is anything?"

!

Announcing the high school dance! Semi-formal. Next weekend.

Gerard's going with his girlfriend, and I'm going with Mikey. Not like a date, just like dudes. Just to have someone to hang out with. It was his idea. I didn't want to go, but he said that if he had to I had to. Fair enough. Wasn't going to let him suffer alone.

I told Grandma about it and she's making me wear Uncle Clark's old suit jacket. It's baby blue…

_Pardon me while I barf!_

Heaven help me.


	11. Chapter 11

As if I wasn't already completely and utterly unpopular; I had to just get everyone stuck in an hour long 'anti-bullying' presentation. They all know it's my fault too, which is the sucky thing. I think the 'anti-bullying' thing isn't gonna work… since they all want my head on a shiny silver platter like the head of Solomon or whatever. Was that Solomon? No, that was Jezebel and the vineyard owner… I think… God dammit, we just studied this last week!

Anyways, while one of you goes and looks up that bible story for me, I will continue my own story. It was just a normal Tuesday morning when I walked into school and headed to my locker. I found Mikey along the way and he decided to walk with me, because Mikey is awesome. Even if he doesn't talk much, it's still good to have him around. It's a comfortable silence, ya know?

When we got to my locker and opened it we were hit with a landslide of papers and a certain kinky item. I knelt down and started looking at the papers while Mikey picked up the dildo and studied it between his fingers. That's right. Some fucker put a DILDO in my locker.

Half of the papers were porn, which I tried not to look at too much, and the other half were bible passages or hate notes.

"I'll go get someone," Mikey said with a frown, dropping the dildo back onto the pile of notes. I just stayed kneeling next to it and staring in complete shock. The notes said stuff like "Go die faggot" and "You'll burn in hell" and "Sexual Deviant!" That didn't really surprise me. But the fact that someone had actually taken the time out of their day to track these bible verses down and print them off and buy a dildo… what the hell? What the fuck makes me so damn special?

"You like being on your knees, huh?" I didn't look up to see who said it. I just stared at the pile and tried to shut it all out. I didn't notice that Mikey had returned until Pastor Don was hauling me to my feet and Ms. Michelle, the 9th grade teacher, was covering her mouth with her hand and blushing.

I got to spend the most of that morning in Pastor Don's office reading because they didn't want me with the other students too much. They didn't want anything to happen to me, and they didn't want me to get mad and start a fight. Wise decision, really. So I sat in his office and read all morning. Pastor Don talked to me about it and I had basically nothing to tell him. I got to talk to the principal too, whom I hadn't really known existed until today.

During lunch Gerard and Mikey came in to eat with me, which was cool. After lunch they announced an assembly that the entire high school had to go to, and guess what it was about. Mhm…

I sat between Mikey and Gerard, Melanie glued to Gerard's other side, while the principal and Pastor Don shamed us all and preached about loving thy neighbor. I don't think it did anything except make a bunch of people pissed at me. On the way out Chase threatened to kick my faggot ass into next week, and I told him to be careful because my gay might be contagious. Obviously we learned a lot from the assembly… pft NOT!

!

I think Melanie had something to do with the locker thing. One of the notes said something about unicorn buttsex, and I only made that joke to Mikey, Gerard, and Melanie. I brought this up to Mikey and Gerard on our walk home and Gerard got really pissy. He hurried ahead of Mikey and I, and Mikey just sighed and said "You think so, huh?"

Yeah, I really do. Not that Gerard gives a fuck. I mean, why should he believe the guy he's spent all his time with for the past six weeks over his fake girlfriend that he'd had for four days? Uncle Clark is still on his faggot rant, especially after the 'locker incident.'

"You brought it upon yourself ya know," he said over dinner, waving his fork at me. "If you could just act normal you wouldn't have this kind of problem,"

"Most of the normal people I know are assholes," I said, and that received a glare.

"There are certain things that are acceptable in society, Franklin," he told me. "The sooner you grow up and face it, the sooner you can start to succeed,"

I don't want to believe Uncle Clark about this. There's no way I'm sacrificing who I am to succeed and 'be acceptable in society.' Obviously all society has done for me recently is gang rape me and leave me to die. Thanks society! Thanks a lot.

And now they have Gerard…

I clenched my jaw and started staring down at my lap, suddenly unable to eat. I thought I was going to be sick, or start crying, or both. Maybe I could just recede into myself so much that I literally disappear. Or maybe I could spontaneously combust. I heard that has happened occasionally over history. I started silently praying to God for a random heart attack or bolt of lightning. Something to just kill me, knock me cold, get rid of all of this.

Instead God gave me a seven year old.

Tiffany took my hand in hers and gently kissed my cheek. "Don't be sad," she said in her little voice. "You can like whatever kind of color you want,"

Uncle Clark had no idea what to say to that. In his ears his daughter had just said something completely irrelevant to the situation, but from the way Grandma was grinning I think she understood. I did too. Tiffany could like whatever kind of color she wanted, even if it was green and even if it was a boy's color. So could I. Fuck whatever society thinks, I could be whoever the hell I wanted.

"Thanks Tiffany," I said, giving her a genuine smile. A small smile, more like a grin really, but a smile none the less. She smiled wide and went back to her dinner.

Every day I understand more and more why Gerard chose Sunday school over Youth Group. Kids are amazing little creatures.

!

So I'm going to the dance. I'm wearing the stupid baby blue suit jacket with a black shirt underneath it and black trousers. I looked okay except that it was baby blue. I think the black made it more tolerable. I walked to the Way's house and Mikey and I walked to the dance together. Gerard had already gone. Mikey laughed at my suit but not in a mean way, and I laughed at it too, because it was really ridiculous. Mikey got lucky and was wearing a grey suit type thing, which looked a lot better than mine. He reassured me that the gym was dark for the dance so not too many people would laugh at me.

Thanks Mikey…


	12. Chapter 12

The following is a recollection of events either experienced directly by me, or received second hand from Gerard. Some of the conversations may not my completely accurate, but fuck it! Close enough, right? So here it goes:

We got to the dance, which was cool if you like that kind of thing. I never admit it to people, but I really do like this kind of thing. It's the closest I can get to a club until I manage a fake i.d. or turn twenty-one. So we walked into the gym and saw a bunch of guys in dorky suit jackets, none as dorky as mine, but still pretty dorky. All the girls were in different colored dresses of modest length. Nothing resembling a cheap porn video. Several teachers stood in the corner talking, drinking sodas, and basically ignoring all the kids. I looked around before I spotted them, Gerard and Melanie were right in the middle of the dance floor. Gee looked like he was having fun… good for him. Mikey and I slunk to the west wall, closest to the dj, and sat against it. Someone has to hold up the wall, right?

I'd be lying if I said that I looked at anything else but Gerard for the first half hour we were there. The song "Everybody Talks" by Neon Trees came on and I sighed.

"This is a pretty accurate song for you and Gerard, huh?" Mikey said, and I noticed that he still had one ear bud in despite how close we were to the speakers. I nodded slowly, deciding not to question it.

"Maybe you should go dance with him," he suggested and I shrugged him off.

"Look at him out there! He's having the time of his life with Melanie," I sighed again.

"He keeps looking this way," Mikey said. "So obviously he _isn't,_" Mikey said.

The song "You Belong with Me," by Taylor Swift came on, and I groaned before getting up and going to the bathroom. The music was muffled in there, and it felt good to splash cold water on my face.

From what I'm told, Melanie and Gerard kinda got into a fight while I was in the bathroom. I asked Gerard what happened later, and basically Melanie started to kiss him and grabbed his package.

Gerard was all like "Dude! Stop! What the fuck!?" and she tried it again but Gerard wouldn't let her. She then started to make remarks about him being gay and mentioned that she had something to do with what happened to my locker. (I KNEW IT! BWAHAHA BITCH!) Gerard told her to go choke on the dildo. That boy is truly amazing sometimes.

So Gerard was just kind of sulking around when Mikey walked up to him. Mikey is awesome, like seriously, I'm so glad he decided to _not _talk to me that first day at Youth Group.

"Why don't you ask Frank to dance?" he said. The music was too loud for anyone to hear him. It was some Nikki Minaj song, but it was the clean version so it sounded weird. _You're a stupid- You're a you're a stupid-. _Yay awkward pauses.

"Mikes, you know why I can't do that," Gerard said as an excuse.

Apparently Mikey got kind of pissed. "No Gerard, I don't! Enlighten me, and don't blame Dad this time. If you really like him and you want to dance with him then fucking do it! You need to stop caring so much about what other people think!"

"I-I don't care what they think!" Gerard probably stuttered out. I can hear him saying it that way.

"Then prove it. LOOK, he's right there. Stop treating him like shit and go ask him to dance!"

This was the moment that I walked back into the gym to find Gerard staring at me and Mikey stomping away from him. Then Gerard started walking over to me and I think my heart stopped working for a second, because I didn't know what was going on. The song that was playing was "Teenage Dirtbag." Sadly it wasn't the GOOD version by Wheatus, but the One Direction version. Ugh that band. It's the kind of song that nobody really knows how do dance to. Half the people were slow dancing in a sense and the other half were kind of swaying.

Gerard reached me, and we kind of just stared at each other for a moment, not saying anything.

"W-would you like to dance with me, Frank?" he finally asked, biting down on his lip. AS IF I WOULD SAY NO! Well, I should have, since he'd been such an asshole the past week, but I couldn't, because I really wanted to dance with him.

"What will everyone say?" I asked instead.

"I don't give a fuck anymore," Gerard said. "They aren't important,"

"You're sure?" I asked. "If you don't want to its okay, I mean…. I totally understand…" WHAT WHAT WHAT!? MOUTH SHUT THE FUCK UP I WANT TO DANCE WITH THIS SEXY MAN! SHUT UP!

Gerard grabbed my wrist in his hand and started tugging me towards the dance floor. "Come on,"

I followed obediently and the song "Hear You Me" by Jimmy Eat World started playing. I didn't realize we were actually going to slow dance until Gerard slipped his arms around my waist, and I followed by wrapping my arms around this neck. He was smiling, blushing too, but smiling at least.

"We don't have to do this, Gerard," I said quietly. People were starting to take notice.

"I want to," he said, pulling me in a bit closer. I sighed and laid head on his shoulder as we swayed around. More and more people started to notice. They just stopped and stared at us. Barely anyone was dancing now. Gerard and I were though, and it was spectacular. I closed my eyes to shut out the world and just breathed Gerard in.

"I'm sorry, Frankie," Gerard whispered in my ear as we spun. "I'm sorry for everything,"

"It's okay," I said. "You're worth it…"

Then he kissed me. I still feel a flock of hyperactive moths in my abdomen as I type this. He just grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me. I kept one hand on the back of his neck and the other went to the small of his back.

An audible gasp rang through the gym, so I rose up a hand and flipped them all off. It was the best night of my life.

!

Mrs. Johnson pointed out in the student handbook what it says about public displays of affection, reassuring us that the punishment would be exactly the same if it had been heterosexual. Gerard brought up Melanie and Mrs. Johnson told him not to concern himself in other people's business.

Neither of us wanted to go home after dealing with Mrs. Johnson so we went to the park and laid on our stomachs and asked each other questions. Gerard's favorite color is red. His favorite band is either Morrisey or the Misfits. He's five foot nine and weighs a hundred and forty pounds. If he could only eat one food for the rest of his life it would be macaroni and cheese. He has a huge box under his bed filled with comic books. His favorite is Hellboy.

We went home eventually because we had homework to do along with writing our papers for Mrs. Johnson. We had to write lines. Mehhh.

_Thou shalt not commit adultery._

_ We are to control sexual urges in a God pleasing way- according to the sixth commandment._

I have to write this out one hundred times. This should be fun. I have to like Mrs. Johnson though for completely leaving out homosexuality. I know Martin Luther says a lot about it in that part of his book. Sexual activity is only for the _husband and wife._ Only for the _married. _Even just the explanation of the sixth commandment says "We should fear and love God so that we lead a sexually pure and decent life in what we say and do; and husband and wife love and honor each other." She left anything about gender out of what she's making us write. That's pretty nice of her…

I gave my note to Grandma before dinner, and she read over it before shooting me _that _look. "Was it worth it?" she asked.

I thought about kissing Gerard and a smile formed on my face. "Yeah," I said. "He was totally worth it,"


End file.
